


Holy Words

by QuillTea



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Cock Rings, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Sex, F/M, Fingering, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pegging, Polyamory, Praise Kink, Size Difference, Size Kink, Strap-Ons, Switch!Omera, Threesome - F/M/M, Top!Paz, Vaginal Sex, bottom!Din
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:00:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26684794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuillTea/pseuds/QuillTea
Summary: “Din,”she whispers, and she speaks his name like it’s a holy word to be used with reverence.Safe from Imperials, and safe from raiders, two Mandalorians and a foundling have retired to a sleepy backwater planet, where two more join their little clan. But Din is a constant coil of tension, and after little eyes are sent away, Paz and Omera can help him break down his barriers and relax.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Omera, Din Djarin/Paz Vizsla, Din Djarin/Paz Vizsla/Omera, Paz Vizsla/Omera
Comments: 18
Kudos: 158





	Holy Words

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](https://quilltea.tumblr.com/)

Stripping down from their armor isn’t the fastest, or most fun, process. But it builds the anticipation. Din finds himself fumbling with the plates, shaky with nerves, watching instead as Paz removes his armor. The huge Mandalorian undresses with ease while Din feels as though he stares at his beskar like an idiot.

Everything is accounted for. Winta and the kid are sent off with friends, giving them hours of time for each other. Paz assures him they have everything they need for this. Din wants to trust them, wants to give himself to them as they want. _You’ve been too stressed._ They’ve messed around before, finding numerous methods of pleasure that didn’t go this far, and he’d always wanted _more_ but—

His defenses stand in the way.

Omera watches them both from the bed. She lounges back on her hands, teeth dug into her lip, and it’s under her lustful gaze that Din finds himself faltering. He shakes himself out of it and works off his vambraces, then pauldrons. He starts piling it on the chair. When Paz is stepping out of his flight suit, simple clothing beneath, Din is only just getting his cuisses off.

Then he’s grabbed. Paz’s fingers hook beneath his vest and tug him close, and Din stumbles, grasping at his forearms. “Enough,” Paz mutters, a growl in his voice, and Din doesn’t know what to _do_ as Paz takes off his cuirass for him. But his cock is getting harder between his legs at being manhandled and in much less time, he’s finally undressed. Paz and Omera both wear some form of clothing, still, but Paz frees Din’s pants off his hips. The fabric pools around his ankles.

Omera makes an appreciative hum, and Din’s face reddens. Paz grabs Din and drags him against his chest, bumping their helmets together, and Din can’t help but feel exposed. But Paz reaches for Din’s helmet and he swallows, grabbing onto Paz’s forearms.

“Din?” Paz says, quiet.

Din nods. They’ve talked about this extensively, for nights and nights, with Omera and without her. What it means to take it off in front of her, to allow her to see their faces, but she and Winta have been brought into their clan. _Mandalorian._ Nothing is taken lightly.

Paz lifts his helmet. It’s slow to give Din time but he doesn’t resist. He’s completely exposed now, and while he and Paz have already exchanged faces before, having another look upon him is… jarring.

Omera gasps and Din looks at her. Paz gives him a push and Din almost stumbles but comes to the bed where she sits. She gets up, eyes fixed to his face, looking him all over. “I’m allowed this,” she whispers, but her eyes look to him for confirmation.

“You’re part of our clan, now,” Din says. “Clan Djarin of House Vizsla.”

“It’s allowed,” Paz rumbles.

She reaches up. Her hands come to his face, cupping either side, before running her thumbs over his cheekbones. He reaches up to take hold of her forearms, not to stop her, and she runs his fingers through his hair. “So handsome,” she sighs, “better than I’d hoped.”

His cheeks heat and he stares at her.

She steps in to kiss him. He’s no stranger to it but her lips are so much softer, fuller, warmer than he anticipated. She wraps her arms around his neck and his arms slip around her waist. It’s soft at first, the kisses they’d always wished to share, until she presses closer and her arms tighten and she _kisses_ him. A hand drops down to grasp his cock. Din almost jumps at the sensation, too lost in the kisses. “Perfect,” she sighs against his mouth. Din almost shudders; the praise… gets to him. “Din…”

His name on her lips. Din is _hard._

She gives him a final kiss before she’s down on her knees. Din can barely steel himself before she takes his cock into her mouth with no preamble, and she does it with such _ease,_ his entire length disappearing into her throat. “Fuck!” Din digs his fingers into her hair, and she doesn’t seem to mind the roughness at all, instead humming before she begins to move her head.

Paz steps behind him. His bare hand brushes over Din’s hip and there’s the popping of a bottle. Din swallows, hearing the lube be tossed on the bed, before Paz’s arm slips around his waist. A finger pushes inside him, then another finger, and Din moans. They’ve already prepped for this, but the sensation is far too much. Omera’s tongue against his cock is wondrous, her mouth warm and skilled and perfect, while Paz looms over him, fingers pushing to find—

“Fuck!” he cries again. Paz’s fingers nudge against his prostate and his grip tightens on Omera, pushing his hips forward. Her fingers grab onto his hips, digging in, and he just pants. “Paz — I’m — fuck—“

Paz chuckles behind him, and Din realizes his helmet is off. He swallows. The fingers ease out but he isn’t empty long, the appendages replaced by a small object. The dildo is too small for real fun but stretches him nicely as a warmup, and Din moans, caught between the sensations. “We may have to cut that short,” Paz drawls, looking over Din at Omera. “He’ll finish too easy. Another time.”

Omera makes a disappointed hum on his cock before pulling away. Din, too, makes a deep-throated whine. His cock drips with saliva now and she wipes it from her mouth before standing. “You’re so vocal,” she says, looking at Din as she steps close. Her eyes roam his body, and his face is hot, feeling every thrust and turn of the toy inside him. She examines his body, her hands pressing against his abs first. He has pudge there, softening overtop the muscles, and he’s never been self-conscious of it until now.

He isn’t as impressive as Paz.

Her hands roam over him. Down over his hips, up to his pecs and over his shoulders like she needs to memorize his physicality. Paz’s arm is still tight across his stomach and working him open; taking his time, holding Din in place for her. Omera makes another appreciative hum, hands paused on the muscles of his biceps before she steps in. Her lips come to his throat.

She latches there, gentle in sucking the skin. Din draws in a breath, one hand grasping at Paz’s arm while the other digs into Omera’s hair. He loves nothing more than to grip it — Mandalorians never get so much. Her hand comes to cradle the other side of his jaw and he’s panting, teased so close to the line, but just too far. “O-Omera,” he gasps, and her teeth dig into his skin. He makes a whimper, feeling her press up against his bare thigh, his cock going ignored. Paz makes a satisfied growl, working the toy faster. Omera finally pulls away from that spot, only to find another below it.

“This is _perfect,”_ Paz says.

The toy slip out of Din but he isn’t released. He’s held in place for Omera to continue, and she leaves a few more bites on him, marking up one side of his throat. His heart is racing as she continues moving lower. Paz’s grip holds him tight and unrelenting, leaving him at her mercy. With each hard bite, she runs her tongue over the mark as though to soothe it. She leads down to his chest and when she reaches a nipple, Din is already tense with anticipation.

Her tongue circles around it and Din holds back a moan. She holds onto him, fingers pressing against his ribs, and takes the nub into her mouth; she adores his sensitivity, her other thumb shifting now to his other side. She presses down on it, circling around his nipple. He makes a strained noise, then feels her teeth, and he holds his breath with a twisted expression as her teeth sink in.

As she moves to his other nipple, pressing kisses to the skin, Paz bends down to kiss at the existing bites. “Gorgeous like this,” he murmurs. Din moans, panting beneath their mouths. “Just beautiful.”

Omera finally parts from him, and he rolls his hips forward, but neither continue to pay him attention. Instead, Omera and Paz kiss over his shoulder, wet and thorough, leaving Din pressed between them. _“Cyar’ad,”_ Paz murmurs with affection, and Din looks at them with pleading eyes. But a bulge presses against him from behind and the two kiss again, sinfully messy.

Fucking hot.

When Din finally makes an impatient grumble, they part with a laugh. He’s tugged and given a shove towards the bed, sending him stumbling onto it, but he lets himself sink down. He turns over and pulls himself onto the bed fully, and Omera is quick to get into his lap. He resists the urge to thrust up for friction, instead watching her pull up her dress. She tosses it to the floor, and his eyes are drawn to her breasts, wrapped securely with a cloth. She slips it off, and Din swallows. His cock is _hard_ at attention.

Paz comes to the bed, content to watch, and Omera pushes forward to kiss Din. Her hands come to his shoulders, urging him down, and when he’s on his back she takes his hands and pulls them to her waist. “I’ve wanted to feel you,” she sighs, following up with another kiss. Her hand comes to his cock, sliding her hand up and down, and Din lets out a strained moan. “Din…”

His hand slips down and finds her folds. She’s wet enough that his fingers can glide and she lets out a breath, her other hand grasping at his shoulder. He dips his fingers in, feeling around her entrance, how _soaked_ she is for them. She bends down to lie flat against his chest, face against the unmarked side of his neck. “It’s been a long time,” she whispers, a quiet warning to them both, and they nod. He digs his fingers a little deeper to explore, proud of himself when he earns a moan. After enough time, and after his hand is soaked with fluid, he retracts it. Omera is out of breath on top of him.

Then Paz’s hands come to his biceps, sliding down to his forearms, and Din’s arms are pulled back to be pinned to the bed beside his head. Din looks up and gives a test tug, but he isn’t moving. “Get it out,” he says, and Omera nods, getting up and off Din. Din frowns and watches as she heads to the drawer where they’ve been keeping… intimate things. She fetches out something small and returns, keeping it hidden behind her. She grabs the bottle of lube, squeezes some out, and brings it to Din’s cock to coat him generously with the gel.

Then she slips the cock ring on, sliding it down to his base, and works his testes through it. Din gasps and then groans, squirming against Paz’s grip, but quickly gives up. The ring always means he won’t get to release until later, usually for Paz’s delight. Paz presses a kiss to his cheek. _“Jate?”_

Din huffs, but nods.

_“Jate’ad.”_

When the ring is secure in place, the blood is trapped, and Omera continues to stroke him. His cock is hard as anything and Din pushes his hips up, out of breath. “Please,” he begs, and Omera _looks_ rather pleased, stroking him with little urgency. Paz’s tongue runs over his skin, starting down at his collarbone before working up to his throat. At Omera’s love bites, he runs his tongue over the imprints, and Din shudders.

Then, Omera lifts herself over his cock and sits back.

“Fuck,” Din breathes, and he lets out a moan as Omera’s heat surrounds his cock. She makes her own gasp, eyes shut as she settles down in his lap. _“Osik…”_

“Oh, you feel _perfect,”_ she breathes, and Din is panting, resisting the urge to thrust up. As she starts to rock, Paz kisses him, long and deep until Din is only a squirming mess. His moans are muffled by the kiss and Paz licks into his mouth, demanding his attention. Din pushes up into Omera but it gives him no further relief. Soon, Paz pulls away, and he just watches with mesmerization as Omera rides him.

Then, the head of Paz’s cock brushes against his cheek. His wrists are gripped by one hand and Din looks back before tilting his head, mouth open. “Good boy,” Paz murmurs, a satisfied smirk on his face, before he pushes forward into Din’s mouth. Din has to shift but if he’s good at one thing, it’s blowjobs performed under tables, always having to bend for proper angles. _“Fuck…”_

Paz is gentle in thrusting into his mouth but Din feels it. Omera feels wondrous on his cock and yet his attention is drawn above to where Paz’s hand is caressing his throat. Din grasps at the blankets, fighting to keep himself slack when his body wants to tighten up. Omera looks up at them and gasps, then grinds down on him. _“Din,”_ she whispers, and she speaks his name like it’s a holy word to be used with reverence. Her hand drops to her clit to rub, continuing to ride as if it’s the last she’ll ever get.

“Good boy,” Paz moans, and Din’s chest rises and falls with every breath through his nose, melting beneath the praise. His orgasm is so near, but the pressure of the ring holds him back. Paz knows his tells, knows when to deny him, knows how to do it well. For now, he’s happy to be useful, to give them pleasure. He knows he’ll have his turn eventually.

Omera gasps, rocking forward. Her motions become smaller, limited, hand rubbing quickly. He tries to thrust up, but she’s near stopped, panting as she chases the edge. “Oh… fuck, _fuck…”_

Omera tenses all over, knees squeezing against his sides, muscles clamped down on Din’s cock. Din pulls at Paz’s grip, his own orgasm so _close,_ and he tries in vain to grind up into her. She throbs around him, continuing to tremble from the force of her release. Paz gives Din’s throat a light squeeze before he pulls back from his mouth, and Din coughs, feeling spit run down his cheeks. He swallows and pants, looking down at Omera.

She takes a few moments before easing herself off him. They smile at each other as Omera comes to his side and she leans down to kiss him, their mouths moving together. Her hand settles on his chest. “So handsome,” she murmurs, and Din feels like a grinning fool at the gentle praise. On his other side, Paz settles, and he looks at Omera with a knowing expression before his lips come to Din’s shoulder.

“Most handsome,” he murmurs in agreement, and his hand drifts down to grasp Din. Din sucks in a breath, body tensing. Paz’s thumb runs over the head of his cock, gathering up the precum before bringing it to his mouth. Din’s face turns redder and he looks away. Paz chuckles and instead his hand reaches across to Omera, hand drifting over her hip. “Good for next?” he murmurs.

Omera smiles and nods.

“You have a _plan_ here,” Din accuses.

“Of course.” Paz smirks. “Hands and knees, _cyare.”_

Din swallows but he obeys. He feels the weight shift as Omera gets off the bed, walking to their drawers, and Din is settled on his hands and knees. He hears scrummaging, then the sound of clicking buckles. He tries to turn and look but Paz kneels in the way, also turned to look back. “Beautiful,” Paz says, and his hand comes down to thread into Din’s hair, holding him in place. Din doesn’t fight it. “Him like this?”

“Lower,” Omera murmurs. Paz takes Din’s knee and pulls it up; he drops onto his forearms and has both knees hiked up. He’s completely spread. His heart is racing in his chest. “... Perfect.”

She gets back onto the bed. Din feels the bed dip again and she’s behind him now, perfectly out of sight. Paz moves too, then, and there’s shuffling he can’t see. Just as he’s about to turn, something smooth and slippery and _hard_ presses against his ass and Din gasps. “Slow, good,” Paz murmurs, and the object pushes deeper inside him. It spreads him open, delightfully thick, not as big as Paz but enough to stretch him, and it’s _ridged._ He lets out a whimper, burying his face in the pillow as it pushes deeper and deeper with every ridge making itself known.

It’s a big fucking toy, he thinks, and he isn’t sure what—

Omera’s hips press against him and he realizes what it is.

“You have—“ he takes a shuddering breath, and when it shifts, it brushes his prostate and he nearly cries out. “F-F… Strapped—“

Omera and Paz both laugh. “Figured it would be your new favorite thing,” Paz purrs, and Din just pushes back against her in response. Omera’s hand smooths over his back and over his hip. She gives a few test thrusts and Din whimpers, feeling it drag back and forth through him. “Maker, that’s beautiful.”

“Are you…”

“Yeah.”

The movement stops and Din tries to remember how to breathe. He hears the snap of the lubricant bottle again and he attempts to turn and look, but Omera is in the way of whatever Paz is doing. Omera looks at him again and gives a few gentle thrusts, but it’s barely anything before her attention is drawn away. Finally, it strains him too much to twist and he just settles down, resting on the pillows.

_“Oh—“_

The toy pushes deeper into him, and he pushes onto his elbows to look back. Omera faces him now but her eyes are squeezed shut, out of breath, and Paz’s hands grip her hips. She moans, and Din is throbbing, and the look on her face as Paz pushes inside her is almost enough to send him over the edge despite the ring—

Paz begins to thrust.

Omera _moans,_ a desperate noise that goes straight to Din’s cock, and Paz’s thrust rocks her forward into him. “Fuck,” Paz hisses, and Din whimpers as the toy shoves deep. Paz sets the tone but it’s— _gentle,_ thrusting in and out at a slow pace. Omera gasps and makes little attempt to move, far too lost in the sensations. “So _tight…”_

“Om… era,” Din pleads, and he tries to push back harder on the strap-on, digging his fingers into the bed. “Omera. _Please.”_

She makes a strained moan and her knees shift wider but she takes hold of Din, too, starting to rock forward in time with the bigger Mandalorian’s thrusts. It’s something for Din to squirm on but it’s Paz’s thrusts that _push_ her into him, a few small thrusts followed by one that sends the toy deep inside. Din moans and keeps trying to move his hips back and forth, but gets no more friction.

“Like that,” Omera gasps, her voice light, airy, and _desperate._

“So _hot,_ ” Paz sighs, and grunts as he drives into her again.

It’s distracting and wondrous and _hot as hell._

The toy pulls back and out of him. It’s sudden and leaves him empty, and he twists to look back, out of breath. “The fuck—” he starts, but pauses. Paz has her pulled up, back against his chest, and skin slaps together as he drives inside her again and again. His hand grasps her breast and the other is splayed across her stomach. She’s small compared to Paz, like everyone is, but something about it is… _intoxicating._ Din would complain, but this is also one of the hottest things he’s ever seen. Paz mouths at Omera’s neck, teeth digging into her skin, and she makes a desperate moan that has Din throbbing with need.

“Hey,” Din finally croaks.

Paz looks down at him, mouth still in place, and Din can see him hide a laugh. His thrusts pause and Omera pants. “Turn over,” Paz says, and Din is quick to do so. He lets out a breath and gets on his back instead, legs spread out, and Omera grabs onto his knee. Paz gets in a few more thrusts that make her gasp before they settle down. More lube is applied to the toy, to his relief.

Omera kneels between Din’s legs and plants her hands on the bed on either side of his chest, bending down for their mouths to meet. They kiss. It’s deep and hard and perfect, and he reaches down to help her guide the strap back into him. His breath is strained but he relaxes as she pushes. The ridges each enter him until her hips press against his ass and he tilts his head back, out of breath. “Beautiful,” Paz murmurs.

 _“Please—“_ Din starts.

Paz shoves forward in a thrust. Omera cries out, and it shoves her forward into Din, the toy pushed against his prostate. He arches his back up and moans but it happens a second time, a third, a fourth. “Paz!” Omera begs, but neither are handed relief. Instead, Paz seems to drive harder into her, and it shoves the strap on as deep into Din as possible. _“Stars—“_

“Fuck,” Din chokes.

Paz makes a satisfied growl, but he’s panting just as hard. Omera drops onto her forearms, out of breath as she’s caught between them, and buries her face against Din’s neck. “Oh, Maker,” she whimpers. “Fuck. Din… _Paz!”_

He digs his hand into her hair and Din is entranced by the scent of it, simple and natural but still _Omera_ and he holds her close. Her breasts press against him and he brings a hand to run his thumb over the skin. A sharp thrust rattles them both, moans escaping, and Omera is breathless.

The thrusts turn faster. Omera pushes up again and the toy increases its movement, dragging back and forth inside him with ridges catching to drive him insane. Paz grips her hips and pulls her back on him, earning moans, and his thrusts push her forward again into Din. The pleasure is too much.

“Paz!” he cries, gasping for breath. His hand comes down to the ring, ready to pull it off, when Paz reaches around to grab his wrist.

“No—“

_“Please—“_

“Just — fucking—“

Paz is panting and his thrusts turn shaky before he drives himself into her a final time. Omera makes a whimper at the force and barely holds herself up, Paz’s weight at her back, while Din makes a frustrated groan. Paz doesn’t move. All three have heaving chests, and as Paz calms, he straightens back up. He looks at Din and their eyes meet.

He turns Omera’s head to the side to kiss her, mouths moving together, and he pulls her with him as he sits back. It’s enough movement for the toy to drag out of him and Din watches as she sits in his lap. Paz’s cum dribbles out of her entrance, slow to drip. They kiss, as if Din isn’t there and desperate and waiting—

 _“Please,”_ he begs, and he can’t take it. “Please, _Paz,_ please, h-how…”

They both look at him. Paz hums thoughtfully and holds Omera to his chest, one arm around her waist while the other hand drifted down between her legs. He unclips the strap-on, taking it away, and begins to rub her clit in slow circles. She sucks in a breath as she watches Din. “What do you think?” he murmurs, and he presses a kiss to her cheek. “Has he earned it? Or do you want more from him?”

It’s fucking bait, he knows, but he won’t give them a reason to deny him longer. So as hard as he throbs, he holds himself in place and just breathes.

Omera watches him. Then, she smiles. She shifts in place, leaning into Paz’s chest, still breathless as her clit is rubbed. “I want his mouth,” she says. “He looked so gorgeous with your cock. I want to feel him myself.”

Din is quick to get up and onto his hands and knees, more than _ready,_ and Paz laughs. “Good boy,” he drawls, and Omera gets up. Din waits patiently as she moves to lie amongst the pillows. He moves, then, to sit at her feet, and looks up at her as he takes hold of her ankle. She smiles at him and spreads her legs, gesturing him closer. He crawls up to her and she pulls him into a soft kiss.

“You’re okay with this?” she murmurs and leans their foreheads together.

Din looks up at her. “Say my name when you cum.”

Omera’s cheeks redden and she smiles. “Okay,” she says.

Din moves back down. He kneels between her legs, then bends down and settles on his belly, hands curled around to grip the tops of her thighs. Paz’s cum continues to ooze out of her but Din resists the obvious starting point, instead beginning to press kisses to the inside of her thigh. He trails down towards her heat, but stops and starts on the other side. Omera sucks in a breath and her hand drifts down to his hair; she runs her fingers through it, not quite pulling, just encouraging him further along.

He’s ready to dive in completely when he hears the sudden clinking from behind.

He turns to look, curiosity taking over. He ducks his head to look beneath Omera’s leg and sees Paz with the strap-on, unscrewing the toy from the belt itself. It separates, still with a flared bottom from where it connected to the belt, just a dildo now. Din stares at him, and Paz just gives him a smirk before reaching for the lube.

“Din,” Omera whispers, giving his hair a gentle tug.

Din turns his attention back to her reluctantly. He begins to lap at the cum leaking out of her, small kitten licks that draw out little hitches in her breath. He shifts his hands to hook better over the tops of her thighs, fingers pressing in, and he focuses only on lapping up the fluids. He shifts his attention then to her clit, dragging his tongue up and over it. Omera gasps. Din grins, looking up at her reaction before he’s circling his tongue around it in a teasing gesture.

“Din,” Omera whimpers.

Making others fall apart with his mouth — it’s the one skill he can boast of.

Paz’s weight shifts on the bed behind him. Din stops and begins to turn but Omera’s grip tightens and he can’t, held still. “Keep going,” she whispers, but Paz’s hand urges his hips up. Din shifts up onto his knees, ass in the air, and squeezes his eyes shut in preparation. The toy nudges into his hole, his muscles spreading around it, and Din makes a whimper. His back arches and Paz pushes him back down, working it deep again. 

_“Jate’ad,”_ he murmurs. “So gorgeous. _Perfect._ Make her cum, and then we’ll take care of you.”

Din pants. “You’re not going to pull some more shit on me,” he breathes.

“Promise.”

He’ll trust it. With the toy settled in his ass, he readjusts himself and returns his tongue to Omera’s clit. He’s gentle in sucking it into his mouth, thumbs pressing on the skin outside of her folds to spread her open. “Din!” she gasps, “oh, _Maker,”_ and fists a handful of his hair to pull. Din hums, a nonsense tune, and the soft vibrations are enough to have her eyes squeeze shut.

Behind him, the dildo is gripped and pulled. Din has to freeze as it moves slowly, every ridge dragging on his walls, and he pants when all that’s left is the bulbous tip. He tries to relax himself but still isn’t ready when it’s driven back inside him. “Fuck!” he cries.

“Focus,” Paz murmurs.

“Like I can—“

It pulls back out and pushes in again, cutting him off. Omera gives him another gentle tug, and he meets her eyes; she looks at him with softness, an encouraging smile, and it’s the reminder of why he’s so in love with her. He steels himself through another thrust that rocks him forward but grips Omera for dear life, mouthing at her clit again. She lets out a happy sigh and Din pushes two fingers into her, feeling the obscene amount of wetness, and moves them gently. He turns his hand and curls his fingers, pressing against the spot just above her entrance.

“Maker!” she cries, and arches her back, hips tilting forward. Din holds on tighter, faltering only a bit now with every thrust of the toy, and he’s panting but determined to not let up on her clit. He wants to be good, good for Paz and good for Omera and what they want. “S-So — _Din—”_

His name sounds so heavenly when she says it. He keeps her clit in his mouth, dragging his tongue over it, kneading his fingers against her sweet spot. The dildo keeps thrusting in and out of him, earning his whimpers and groans, but he refuses to lose focus. He looks up at Omera, her expression lost in pleasure.

“I’m — right there—”

Din runs his tongue over her clit again, fingers pressing, and Omera crests over. _“Din!”_ she cries, and a shudder goes through his own body, feeling her squeeze her legs around him. She arches her back, expression twisted with pleasure, whispered obscenities falling from her lips. “Din, f-fu — oh, _maker—“_

He sucks through her orgasm, fingers still moving at a slow pace, feeling her shudder and whimper. He relents only when she falls limp and tugs his hair, guiding him away from her sensitivity and up to her instead. Paz allows it and the toy feels so heavy inside him. “You’re wonderful,” Omera sighs, and they kiss. She’s still breathing hard through her nose, but their mouths move together. For a few seconds, it consumes him, _throbbing_ between his own legs.

Paz’s hand settles on his back, running in smooth circles over his tailbone. “What do you think?” he murmurs. “He’s earned it?”

Din makes a desperate whine, his mind too scrambled to think of proper words. He buries his face in Omera’s shoulder, and she chuckles, running her fingers through his hair from the nape of his neck up. “He has,” she says, and Paz’s hand slips between his legs, grasping the ring. Din spreads his knees and Paz works it off carefully.

When he’s free, he feels nothing but relief. The ring is set aside and Paz takes hold of his hips, drawing him back, and Din doesn’t want to leave Omera but he lies back and Paz pulls him to his chest. He lays between Paz’s legs and Omera pushes herself up, coming to lay between his thighs. “Good boy,” Paz murmurs, running his hand over Din’s belly down to his thigh, holding him in place. “So good…”

“Perfect,” and Omera grasps his aching cock, taking him into her throat.

Din cries out. He tilts his head back and Paz is right on his throat, dragging his tongue against the bites, and Din whimpers. He reaches his arm back to grab at Paz’s shoulder, pushing his hips forward, out of breath. It’s right there. He’s _right_ there. He can feel it but it’s also too _far,_ much too far, he can’t—

“You’re so good for us, Din,” Paz growls, barely taking a break from sucking new marks to his skin. Din can’t breathe, every muscle tense, clamping down on the toy. “So good. So hot. Everything we could want.”

Omera takes his entire length. Her nose brushes against his belly and her hand comes to his balls, cradling them in her palm. She gives a gentle squeeze. Din squirms against Paz’s arms, and the other just holds him tighter, forcing him to take the pleasure. “Please,” he gasps, and the words fall from his lips, on the verge of falling apart. “Fuck, fuck, I’m — I’m gonna cum, Paz, p-please, oh _fuck_ oh fuck—“

“Finish, _cyare,”_ Paz says, and Din sees white.

His orgasm rolls through him. The build up of denial rocks his entire body, and for a moment he whites out and isn’t _there._ He moans through it, head tilted back, and it takes him a long time for his mind to properly return. When his senses come back, Paz is stroking his thigh, holding him in more of an embrace than a restraint. Omera is pushing up from between his legs, swallowing, and he just stares at her with hazy, tearful eyes.

“Gorgeous,” Paz sighs.

Din is boneless, and he closes his eyes, surrendering completely as it begins to rain.

Their routine is the same. It’s what keeps him feeling okay.

They established it with the smaller things in anticipation of the intensity ramping up like this. Din becomes quiet after scenes like this and while Paz knows how to take care of him, weaving Omera into it — and the presence of being on a planet with resources, not a small ship — has changed things.

Omera draws a bath and goes first, a quick soak to scrub away the sweat and drying fluids. Paz stays with Din, both curled up together in the bed, the smaller man tucked close against his chest. He buries his face and stays there, his body calming, the toy removed to let him relax. The rain pounds against the roof of their hut. When Omera finishes, Paz gets up, guiding Din with him to be washed. When the tub is refilled and Din gets in, head clear enough to soak himself, Paz reaches for his hand. “You’re okay?”

Din squeezes his hand.

“Good,” Paz murmurs, and presses a kiss to his temple.

They’re slow and gentle in cleaning him up. Paz towel bathes himself, more concerned about Din than completely scrubbing clean, just using a soapy rag to clean away sweat and fluids. After, he grabs a towel for them both, and Din is pliant. Paz takes his hand and gets another squeeze. He’s relieved. When both are dry, or mostly, they return to the bed.

Omera has already cleared and cleaned their toys, and they’re returned to the drawer, the lock put back in place. She waits for them in the bed, and Din steps away from Paz to climb in, coming to her. She smiles and reaches out, taking his arm. “Hey, sweetheart,” she murmurs, cupping his cheek, and she leans into a chaste kiss. “You were perfect.”

Paz fetches their water and snacks, and they lie down together. They have to push the sustenance on Din this time — he can be reluctant even if knowing that he recovers better with it. But he consumes the water and small bites of food before stubbornly refusing the rest. Paz and Omera give each other a look but simply eat themselves.

Din is sandwiched in between them, facing Omera, and he wraps himself around her in a secure hold, his head on her shoulder. Paz is a firm weight at his back, pulling the comforter over them all before he strokes Din’s thigh. Din and Omera whisper to each other, quiet words of reassurance, and Omera presses a kiss to Din’s forehead. Paz shifts against his back and then takes hold of his shoulder, gentle in turning Din towards him. Din goes with it and Paz makes a _hum_ at all the bite marks trailing down from Din’s throat to his nipple. _“Our_ pretty boy,” he murmurs, and catches Omera’s eye. She smiles and trails her hand over Din’s stomach, making an sound of agreement. “Hmm…”

“Thank you,” Din says, quiet.

Paz smiles. He bends down to kiss Din, his lips soft and warm and wonderful. Beside them, Omera shifts closer, drawing letters over Din’s chest. “You’re too wound up,” she says. “You can _relax_ with us, _cy… cyare?”_

 _“Cyare,”_ Paz confirms, and both Mandalorians look at her with adoring expressions. Paz leans over to touch their foreheads and beneath them, Din turns over, eyes falling shut. They exchange a fond expression before laying down on Din’s either side, happy to follow the lead. They’ve calmed completely, and Din looks recovered from their activities. Paz strokes his back, fingers running over every scar and burn until Din’s breathing has evened out.

In the morning, Winta and Kuiil will return from their sleepover, likely bursting with stories about what the children all did together. They’ll slip back into the usual routine of parenting and farming and training. Paz has promised to _really_ teach Winta to fire a blaster. Omera wants to fix the rip in Kuiil’s robes. Din, they’ve decided, _is_ going to take a day off from it all. Or two.

For now, they settle together, drifting off as thunder rumbles and rain patters. 

**Author's Note:**

> Mando'a  
> Jate - Good  
> Jate'ad - Good boy  
> Cyare - Beloved  
> Cyar'ad - Lover  
> Osik - dung (shit)
> 
> [Tumblr](https://quilltea.tumblr.com/)


End file.
